


Tell Me

by randomramblesff



Category: Community (TV)
Genre: F/M, Fluff and Smut, Mild Smut, because me thinks in my head that they would wait to do The Thing, how does one even tag, it's just... suggestiveness, like so mild i don't even think it's smut, post-season 6, who even knows why i write ish anymore
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-03-20
Updated: 2017-03-20
Packaged: 2018-10-08 02:39:04
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,539
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10375998
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/randomramblesff/pseuds/randomramblesff
Summary: When he first tells, her he feels partly pathetic and partly terrified. He’s been thinking about it for a while, mulling over all the ways he could screw things up. It’s not that he has a common history for ending things because of what happens in the bedroom - well, technically he doesn’t have a common history for any of it seeing as he’d only really class two or three of his past relationships as just that, genuine relationships – but he knows there’s some sort of expectation floating above him like a cloud.(or... Jeff and Annie take things slow when she gets back from DC)





	

**Author's Note:**

> I have 60k words down for my WIP but sometimes I break my own rules and write for something else. The something else being some suggestive yet fluffy stuff set after S6 when Annie gets back from DC. Based upon my headcanon that Jeff wants to take things slow.
> 
> Also, I can't write ( ͡° ͜ʖ ͡°) for the life of me. (Way to make you want to read it!)
> 
> EDIT - I changed the rating to M. It was nagging at me so I had to change it.

When he first tells, her he feels partly pathetic and partly terrified. He’s been thinking about it for a while, mulling over all the ways he could screw things up. It’s not that he has a common history for ending things because of what happens in the bedroom - well, technically he doesn’t have a common history for any of it seeing as he’d only really class two or three of his past relationships as just that, genuine relationships – but he knows there’s some sort of expectation floating above him like a cloud; these past experiences and stories with other women he didn’t care about other than in the moment. He doesn’t want her to think it’s just the same, no matter what idea she has in her head.

It’s mainly prompted by how everything flows and starts up so smoothly, though. It’s scary how easy it all is. So, okay, talking for the majority of the summer whilst she was away and briefly discussing what he had in mind when she came back may have helped in making it that way, but he couldn’t have expected it to have actually _worked._ Annie deciding to take a month off to work everything out for what she does next means that they’re seeing each other most days because she doesn’t have much else to do, and even when they’re not physically in each other’s company, they’re texting to stay up to speed.

She pauses and nods slowly, confirming that she’s a little unsure as to why he’d want to take things slow. It probably doesn’t help that he tells her whilst they’re in his bed - she’s been sleeping over when it gets late and it just feels awkward to have one of them sleeping on the couch – because they’re practically on top of each other so he has to stop them before anything starts to derail from his plans entirely. She agrees nonetheless, though, slowing moving her hand away from where it’s resting on his shoulder.

They end up watching TV for the rest of the evening, her tucked up under his arm, just close enough that he can press a kiss to the top of her head whenever he wants to, because yes, he may have put a hold on other activities, but he’s still able to show her his affection. That’s something he can do now.

It doesn’t make it any easier though because when she is finally in reach and when he knows he _is_ allowed to be with her in every way possible, it’s hard to hold back. When they start making out on his couch one afternoon, she sits in his lap and there’s no way she doesn’t feel him responding when she rolls her hips over him. His fingers find the edge of her blouse and lift it up so he can feel the soft skin of her back but it isn’t until she starts teasing kisses down his neck that he has to slow them down.

There are times when neither one of them are even meaning to cross any lines; he just wakes up and his body does the talking whilst he has his arm around her and his nose nuzzled into her neck. She usually peels open his eyes before him so of course, she realises before he does, inching closer so that she can feel him right up against her. He lets out a ragged breath which you could almost call a moan, smoothing his hand lower without realising so it’s resting on her thigh. With the newly freed room, she turns to face him but it finally pulls him from sleep. He closes his eyes when he realises, sighing a little before letting himself kiss her good morning.

“What do you want for breakfast?”

“Besides you?” He laughs as her fingers thread through his hair whilst he falls forward into the crook of his neck where he can kiss her there too.

“I’ll make you something.”

Another accidental slip-up happens when she takes a shower at his place one night, saying something about the water pressure being just right and the showerhead being more like rainfall compared to the tiny one at what is now her and Britta’s apartment. He decides to take the time that she’s in the bathroom to put away some laundry, folding away some sweatpants into a drawer and making sure his socks are in order. There’s a sock without a pair though meaning he must have dropped one on the way in past the bathroom door, where he’d walked past head down, not thinking about what was going on behind the frosted glass door, _definitely_ not noticing the crack in the door where it had not been fully closed, steam rolling out.

When he bends down to scoop up the sock, he lifts his head and he can see her; half of her back concealed by the steamed-up shower glass in front of her, the other half in sight, a slither of her curves. Nothing but skin, scattered with droplets and dripping where the shower is flowing down over her hair and shoulders. His brain can’t work out whether to run for the hills or walk right in and make love to her on the spot let alone work out why she’d left it open. He can’t imagine it being to tempt him, it was probably more for practical reasons; to stop mould where there’s no window in the room. But then again, she constantly surprises him and has done for years so maybe this is just her way of showing she’s willing and waiting.

It’s not like she exactly needs to prove that though, her signals have been strong and plentiful from the late-night text messages when she’s _not_ at his place, to the _very_ handsy moments in his car and in his kitchen and under the sheets of his bed. Seeing her standing there, her hands combing through the ends of her soaking wet hair only proves one thing; he _really_ fucking wants her yet he’s still _really_ fucking petrified of not being able to go back once they let each other in.

The pain of knowing what it felt like to be with her would probably be on par with the pain of watching his dad pick up things and go, even if it was for the best. If he can try and hold off then maybe, just maybe, when they finally go that next step further he’ll be ready to take that risk. He’ll be strong enough. He’ll have told her he loves her.

He blinks hard and shakes his head, clenching the all-important sock into his fist, tightly.

It isn’t long until he does tell her the truth. They’ve finished watching a Netflix movie on her laptop, tucked up tightly in her bed, one of his feet hanging off the end, the other bent inwards with her leg crossing over it, when he looks at her after she tells a joke which is barely funny but he still finds it amusing. He’s got the kind of smile on his face that Britta apparently hates now, the one which radiates everything he’s feeling, softly and widely. Annie’s biting her lip, expectantly.

“I love you.” He waits a beat, watching her yet-to-beam smile catch in her eyes. “You know that, right?”

“I do now.” Her eyebrow is raised a little but she’s keeping her eyes fixed on her; he can’t look away.

“I’m sorry for making everything complicated in the past. I don’t want things to be complicated, I want you to know the truth because I’m serious about us.”

She’s not quite smiling now but he knows she’s listening intently.

“Me too.”

He nods and watches her, his chest aching as he waits, sensing the thoughts and fears flooding into the back of his mind as she continues to _not_ say it back. She sighs and looks away for split second.

“I love you too. I… think it’s pretty obvious I have for a long time.”

His ears shoot back and he basically huffs out a laugh, a toothy grin appearing on his face because he can’t control it. There’s confusion there, though, too.

“Really?”

“Really.”

“Me too, I mean, probably for even longer than _I_ realise.”

They don’t have sex. He does take off his shirt for her to sleep in when she starts to get cold in just her camisole, though. When she curls up between his arms, he feels wanted for a whole new reason he’s never felt before, like it might make it easier to feel _wanted_ if he knows he’s worth more than that.

He expects that maybe she’d push a bit harder after that night or that is guard will finally fall and he’ll end up giving in, in the elevator up to his apartment floor after taking her to dinner, but it doesn’t work like that. It seems that they become more comfortable with each other instead.

She wears nothing but his t-shirt and a pair of underwear to sleep and she’s seen him stripped down to briefs more than once, showing no attempt at hiding her gaze. He crawls over the bed to kiss her and tell her he loves her for the thousandth time, pulling away to give her a small smile of knowing, and she stands behind him the kitchen when he makes breakfast, her hands running up and down his chest until he kisses her fingers away so he can move.

He has plans of making it perfect. Taking her on a date, wearing a suit and making an effort to truly seduce her. When they talk about it a bit more, she says she doesn’t mind.

“Don’t get me wrong, I’ve loved having a break especially after how crazy this summer was, but I’m _really_ excited to get back to work, you know?”

“Yeah, you’re at your best when you’re working hard.”

“I think that’s probably true.”

He laughs across from the table at her, where they’re finishing up lunch at his apartment. She agreed to help him work on some lesson plans for the next couple of weeks so he decided to cook them up a well-earned break.

“Eh, I can’t complain, I got a pretty good deal out of it.”

He shrugs nonchalantly even though she probably doesn’t realise how much it’s true. He’s been the happiest he’s been in what feels like forever and it’s only been a month.

“That you did.” She bobs her head and he laughs but it’s not for long because he catches her questioning smile and her eyes focused on his lips. They stare at each other and Jeff can feel his palms start to clam up against his jeans.

A strangled start of a question escapes his mouth but it says more than whatever he was going to ask in the first place because she lunges for him and his hands are immediately cupping around her face as his tongue slides against hers.

He pulls away gasping for her air when her nails start to scratch along the fabric of his sweater.

“We’re not doing this in my kitchen.”

She nods adamantly, her raising shoulders and thumping heartbeat matching his as she stands and takes his hand. He feels as if he’s running towards his bedroom, every part of his body is awake and alive as he reaches the end of the mattress where Annie has fallen onto her back, smiling and flushed and tugging him closer from his belt loop.

It’s a blur because in one moment they’re rolling around and exploring every part of each other with their hands and in the next, he’s hovering over her with nothing between them. She must feel everything he can feel though because she squeezes his arms and makes him focus.

“Jeff…”

He’s so close to being inside of her that he has to bite his bottom lip and push against her thigh with no finesse whatsoever.

“Yeah?”

“You don’t have to prove anything to me.” She’s almost whispering, keeping it all between them. “Do you love me?”

He shakes his head like it’s the simplest question because it is, really.

“Yes, yeah, yeah, I love you. I love you.”

“Then I want you.”

“ _Fuck,_ I want you too.”

“Tell me.”

They move together once he’s ready and it’s the most intense sensation he’s ever felt. Hot, _full,_ deep, whole and everything in-between.

“I… want… to… make you feel good.”

She matches his movements and presses her lips to his damp shoulder where there’s sweat clinging to his skin. He carries on talking low into her ear and as much as it drives her crazy and her toes clenching, there’s something about hearing his breath and every moan that has her crying out and calling his name; knowing that it’s all because of her. All because of _them._

When he’s on the edge he tries his best to keep his eyes open even if he’s straining with the urge to close them and see nothing but white. He wants to remember it and see her and show her because this isn’t just anyone and this isn’t just sex and it isn’t the only reason he’s there.

When she clenches around him it’s only a few seconds until she’s dragging it out of him too, his hand going up behind her head but his eyes still open. Although their breathing still needs to even out he still finds her mouth and kisses her all over again until it all feels too much and he genuinely _does_ need to breathe.

They fall back, arms and legs spread out carelessly. Annie finds his right hand, though, clasping it between her own on the pillow between their heads.

“I love you.”

He stares at her in awe, a bead of sweat on his temple.

“I love you too and I am _never_ waiting that long again.”

“Me neither, I think that was unhealthy.”

“Yeah… I mean, I don’t know if I’ll be able to keep it up to that level every time but I don’t even care. I’ll take anything if it means I can be with you.”

And he does.  
And it drives everyone they know insane.  
And Britta is the only one to pick up on the fact they _hadn’t_ been doing it since Annie stepped off the plane, you know, mainly because she lives in the same apartment as Annie and she’s having to get used to seeing Jeff in his underwear at two AM at least twice a week and having to knock extremely loudly in order to avoid any awkwardness.  
And there is awkwardness even then, especially when they’re not paying enough attention and badly time attempting to make it work on the couch.

But there’s also those moments nobody knows about.  
In his office.  
In his car.  
In his shower.  
In the bath.  
Almost in the spare room of his mom’s house when he finally takes her round.  
The moment after the first time when he realised that this is something he can do now, on top of the many other things that make him feel pretty much invincible.


End file.
